


Years Undone

by jeejaschocolate



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, De-aged Ardyn, Fix-It, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Have we done this?, Kid Fic, Noctis and the bros raise Ardyn, Well now we have, good feels, implied ot4 - Freeform, no?, rated for mature themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-29 14:45:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14474949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeejaschocolate/pseuds/jeejaschocolate
Summary: [Post-game spoilers] After Ardyn and Noctis essentially kill each other in their final fight, Bahamut suddenly decides to go a different route.A very different route.One that involves de-aging Ardyn back to his earliest years and placing him in Noctis’s care…





	Years Undone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [roundnround](https://archiveofourown.org/users/roundnround/gifts).



> Okay, so this all started as an rp thread on tumblr between theplagueofstars and rexcrsytallis (which you can find [here](https://rexcrystallis.tumblr.com/post/171711253875/small-ardyn-approaches-noctis-with-a-smile-in-his). Many feels were enjoyed and there was a sudden extra need for de-aged Ardyn (how has this not been a thing on ao3 until now??). Then the lovely princenoctease and weirdfans (aka roundnround) drew [some collab art to go with the idea](https://weirdfans.tumblr.com/post/173175209448/doodle-giftart-for-this-another-collab-lineart) that made it all worse/better.
> 
> And that's when I decided to get involved. Because I love this idea so much T___T it heals my withered soul. 
> 
> Another thing of note: I actually wrote gen, guys! Or at least...I tried to T__T. Attempts were made lol.
> 
> Last point - here's a video on [three year old developmental milestones](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w5DWCwUcOxc) if you're someone that's not around kids and doesn't know a three year old from a six year old. Or if you're just generally curious! 
> 
> ...And yes. Ardyn is getting de-aged to three years old here. RIP, trash man.

This was it. The Beyond.

Noctis felt himself begin to evaporate. His task was done; Ardyn was…gone. Evaporated into golden specks. Purified. The Scourge was healed as well, Noctis figured. Once Ardyn had been slain. 

He was finished. He could die at peace now. The lines across his flesh split into dust. He was fading. 

Noctis let it happen. Damn. Honestly, he was so tired…he welcomed the thought of peace. No more journeys, no more burdens to shoulder. Just rest.

_A moment, Chosen One._

…Hm? Noctis tried to open his eyes. Except, his eyes were gone. When he searched for the part of himself that could see, there was nothing. He was already dead.

But he had heard Bahamut calling him. Not ‘heard’ with ears; more like…he felt the words inside whatever piece of him was still left.

_Are you comfortable with these events as they have unfolded?_

Wait, was Bahamut asking him his opinion now? After trapping him in the Crystal for ten years and then leaving him to figure it all out?

I…

Noctis wanted to speak, but there was no mouth for him to use. He only had his thoughts.

And yeah. If Noctis was being completely truthful…the end of this story did not sit well with him. This world was so unfair to the people who toiled upon its surface. People like Ignis. Prompto. Gladio. Luna. His dad. Cor. Even Ardyn. 

Noctis wished he could….well…he wanted to change the fate of them all.

_Not all, young king._ Bahamut sounded as if he’d heard that. Understood, even. _But some. One, at least. A different fate. If you like._

Different how? 

_Years undone. The scars of the past still lived, but unwound. Unspooled like thread. A chance at redemption. To live a new life, a better one. In a better world, one you yourself have created._

I…don’t understand what you mean.

_I can give you life anew, Chosen One. As you were the moment before death. But you will be charged with the fate of the Accursed. To do with as you see fit. His story will be yours to rewrite. I trust your judgement to be the final judgement. The one that corrects our path. The mistakes that were made…_

Rewrite the fate of the Accursed? Ardyn? Noctis still didn’t understand. He sort of liked the sound of that, though. Life anew. A judgement that corrected the mistakes of the past. There were so many things wrong with the way Ardyn’s life had gone. Noctis had wished for a long time that he could somehow fix it all…

And really, the chance to see his friends again?

Noctis thought he’d made his peace with death. He really, really had. But now, all of a sudden, when Bahamut offered him an opportunity to live, a spark of survival instinct reared its head inside him. Strong and hot. Like a deep hunger. 

Noctis wanted to live. It wasn’t fair that he had to die! He’d barely lived at all! Ten years of stasis after trudging down the road of unalterable fate. He wanted to have his own life. Do the things that he liked to do—feel what is was like to make decisions for himself—

_Then it is done._

Light crept back into Noctis’s vision. His body began to feel again, reunited with a sense of touch and solidifying wholeness—

_The decision is yours. As is the gift of a free life. It is all we can do for you, the bearer of all Destinies. Go forth._

Whatever Bahamut had just decided, it was now reality. Noctis sucked in a breath and fell back into his physical body with a cold rush.

_______________________________________

Ardyn was bound. The darkness of the Beyond was closing in around him. He didn’t know what would become of him at this point—what was death, really? Would it even be granted to a creature like him? 

After all this time?

Either way, Ardyn was looking forward to it. Something different! A shuffling of the mortal coil. He’d indeed suffered the calamity of long life, the whips and scorns of time. Now was his chance to end it all.

_Start from the beginning._

For the love of… 

That was Bahamut, wasn’t it? What did the Draconian want from him now? What the hell else?! 

I’ve nothing left to give, I’m afraid. You saw to that for two thousand years, didn’t you?

_Not to give, Accursed. But to take. A new life. From the first days to the last. Yours to do with as you wish, unbound by the fate of the Crystal._

Unbound, he said? Then why did Ardyn feel as if he couldn’t move? As if his body was not even his own anymore…

_Re-learn. Everything. Take the joy of the world and the pain. Suffer it. Understand it. And live as a human being once more._

No more suffering…Ardyn wanted to scream. He would have if his voice worked.He could not bear anymore! He was finished! He hated the world in all its trials and tribulations! The ins and outs, the light and the dark…Ardyn had lived through it all! 

He didn’t need a second chance at anything. What he needed was to die. 

Let me die…

_The choice has already been made. Go forth and live anew._

Dragged back into reality against his will, Ardyn fell into his body with a sense of dread. What kind of life did the Draconian think he wanted? How was he supposed to go on when everything that he was had been destroyed—literally every single part of him had been picked apart and thrown to the darkness, then hauled into the light for scrutiny by the Chosen King…Ardyn truly did not know what was left of him!

“No…no….no….” Ardyn looked up at the ceiling of the throne room in despair. 

Such cruelty. To deny him the sweetness of death after two thousand years roaming the world in search of pitiful vengeance…would he ever cease being the plaything of the Astrals?

He held his hands up to his face. 

They seemed…smaller. Smoother. Like they had when he was a young man. Back before the Scourge, when he was a man of twenty who lived only for the passing pleasures of a fun night and nothing more—

He touched his face. It was also smooth.

What madness was this? 

Ardyn’s whole body was tingling. This was some kind of magic. He felt himself…shrinking. The wear and tear on his body disappearing, as if the hands of the clock had been turned back on the expanse of Ardyn’s person alone. 

He blinked and got…smaller. His mind felt slower too. More panicked, confused. Like a startled deer. When he opened his eyes, the world around him had become much bigger by comparison. The clothes on his body were now far too big to contain him. He was flailing in fabric.

In a swift rush, Ardyn’s memories became fuzzy. They were still there, they did not disappear. But they became…confusing. Ardyn’s mind no longer seemed to be able to process things like purpose and vengeance and death. Suddenly it seemed rather difficult to string words together into a complete sentence. The only things his head had space for were large, concrete, currently present ideas. Himself. This place. His body.

Where was he, again? This was…? Why was he here…? 

He was cold. Shivering. He was trapped in a sea of clothes that covered him like too many blankets, but underneath Ardyn was naked. 

He needed to get out of here.

And go…where?

He was tired. Where was his bed? Didn’t he have a bed? Why couldn’t Ardyn remember a bed? 

He was hungry. How could he get food? His belly hurt…really bad. He wrapped his arms around his stomach to stave off the hunger. 

He was afraid. 

Out of everything Ardyn felt towards the world, in his new form (a child barely older than three) he could only process his own basic needs. His vendetta against the Astrals sunk into his subconscious as his mind became preoccupied with other things. Child things. Food. Unbridled emotions—all boiled down to one common, overwhelming experience: Fear.

And he needed to go to the bathroom. But he would have to try and hold it because he was nowhere near a toilet. That feat alone took up most of his willpower.

And the rest….Ardyn closed his eyes and tried not to cry. 

He was so scared.

_________________________________________________________ 

“He’s…awake!” 

“Noct?” 

“Give him some air! Noct, can you hear us…?” 

When Noctis opened his eyes (okay, he had eyes again, that was good), the first thing he saw was the dais underneath the throne. The faded red rug. His own feet. 

His friends.

Ignis, Gladiolus, and Prompto were standing around the throne, looking at Noctis expectantly. 

“…Guys?” Noctis asked weakly, bringing a hand to his head. 

A cry of joy rang out among his three friends. Noctis’s words solidified the truth: He was really alive! Defying the likeliest end to the prophecy, and ushering in a new age of happiness in all their lives. 

Prompto wiped some tears on the back of his hand. Gladiolus knelt at Noctis’s feet and rested his head against his liege’s knee, too overcome for words. Ignis stood stoically by Noctis’s side, pressing his knuckles to his mouth in an effort to keep the surge of emotion inside. 

“What…happened?” Noctis asked blearily. The last thing he remembered was fighting Ardyn, the Beyond…Bahamut.

What did Bahamut mean? Changing the fate of the Accursed? What the hell was Noctis supposed to do with this new life the Astrals had given him—

“We hoped you could tell us,” Ignis announced, swallowing hard. “We awoke and found you here on the throne. We thought you’d…” 

“…Yeah, so did I.” Noctis ran a hand through his hair. Even despite all the confusion and foreboding sense of hesitation in all this, Noctis was happy to see his friends. 

In that moment, the only thing he wanted to do was wrap them all in a four-way hug. He didn’t even care if they hugged for way too long (Noctis had always been low-key worried about that in the past; getting too affectionate with his friends and them starting to figure out the truth about him, all the feelings he tried to hide). He just wanted to be close to them—to rejoice in these new moments they had together. 

How could they not be happy? 

So, Noctis grinned stupidly and held his arms open wide. His friends saw the gesture (Gladiolus tugged Ignis by the hem of his Kingsglaive uniform to let him know what was about to happen) for what it was. They all fell upon Noctis immediately into a group hug. 

Squeezing. Prompto made a lame joke. Ignis whispered something into Noctis’s ear that was only for him. Words about pride and accomplishment. Noctis wasn’t ready to hear them, but maybe some day he would be. Gladiolus tried to pick the three of them up all at once and almost succeeded. 

Sounds of sniffling startled them out of their shared embrace. They glanced around for the source—but Ignis’s visored eyes pinpointed the exact spot where the sounds came from. He knew what was in that spot. What they had discovered there when they awoke. 

It filled him with dread. 

“And…Ardyn?” Noctis asked. 

“Gone,” Prompto answered with a shrug. He gestured to the empty pile of clothes on the floor. “Only his clothes were left.”

Noctis frowned. That…wasn’t what he remembered. He remembered Ardyn disappearing into golden light. Clothes and everything. Plus, they had been outside when they fought. Not in the throne room.

How…?

A wet, high-pitched sob (choked off just a moment too late) echoed through the chamber. On top of that, they could see a lump the size of an overgrown watermelon moving underneath the clothes. 

“Perhaps…not as we thought.” Ignis seemed to be the only one ready to talk about it. He descended the dais and the others followed him. 

Noctis’s hands were clammy. His heart racing. Bahamut’s words rang in his ears. _His story will be yours to rewrite…_

But there was no way Bahamut could have meant…it was too weird to think that…even though that cry sounded clearly like a—

The four of them stood around Ardyn’s discarded clothes. The lump quivered and circled around a few times. As if searching for something. Or else completely purposeless. They shared looks, uncertain who should be the one to actually investigate.

But ultimately, Noctis knew it was his responsibility. He had been given the task of all this ‘rewriting.’ 

And probably, that rewriting would start now. Whatever it entailed. 

Taking a deep breath, Noctis knelt down beside the clothes. Slowly, cautiously (unsure if this living thing underneath would try to bite him, a legitimate worry), Noctis lifted Ardyn’s signature coat. He flinched when the lump gasped in return—they were frightened of each other, it seemed. 

No way. This couldn’t be. What kind of sick joke were the Astrals trying to pull…?

He knew what he would find underneath these clothes. Yeah, he knew. And Noctis could admit that he saw the punchline. He just didn’t think it was fucking funny. 

Noctis kept going. He pulled the coat away…unearthing a tiny, shivering, sobbing child.

Huge golden eyes. Tears spilling uncontrollably down a pair of cherubic cheeks. Naked, helpless. Shrinking away from Noctis when they saw him, retreating into the further reaches of the fabric. A wild mop of tangled crimson hair. 

So yeah.

Noctis closed his eyes and let out a breath. This was going to be a hell of a thing. Some fucking sense of humor the Astrals had. And now the joke was on Noctis because he had to deal with this…

Cool. Real cool, Bahamut. Damn it all.

“Hey…” Noctis pulled the coat away so the child had nowhere to hide. He curled in on himself completely when he was exposed. Just a pile of squishy ivory skin and knotted red hair. 

Prompto gasped. Ignis nodded solemnly (he’d expected as much from the moment he heard the cry, now he heard the distinct sounds of a child). Gladiolus rolled his eyes and cursed foully under his breath. 

“It’s okay…” Noctis crept a little closer to the child. “I mean…” Honestly, how was this okay? “…are you hurt?” 

The toddler hugged himself tighter, burying his face in his arms. Crying hard. 

“Shh, shh, hey…” Something in Noctis’s heart broke when he heard those cries. He knew what (or who) this child was, but…still. There was such honesty in those cries. Undisguised. Raw and painful. You’d have to be heartless to feel nothing when you saw a kid as upset as this.

And Noctis was far from heartless. Most of his problems arose from being too well-endowed in that department. The area of ‘heart.’

He scooted closer to the child and put a feather-light hand on the toddler’s shoulder. He meant the gesture to be comforting, but the kid let out a strangled whimper.

Realizing there was no way to comfort him, but still so very determined, Noctis bent down until he was laying on his own stomach. Eye level with the toddler. 

“Hey. Ardyn.”

Ardyn’s head snapped up. Recognizing his name on instinct. 

Noctis smiled, trying to look friendly (he’d known a few kids before, Talcott at least, so he knew more or less the kind of demeanor kids responded to. Except now he was a man of thirty instead of twenty, but…yeah.)

“It’s okay. You’re safe, alright?” Noctis looked around for something to cover Ardyn with. He picked up the paisley scarf Ardyn always wore and slung it over the young toddler’s shoulders. Hoping it would make him feel better. 

That seemed to work. Touching the fabric of the scarf in wonder, Ardyn sucked up his snot noisily and ambled into a sitting position. He wiped his face against the scarf and eyed Noctis warily. 

“Are you hurt anywhere?” Noctis repeated. He needed to know if Ardyn was actually alright—he had just impaled the man with every weapon in Armiger, so. It was hard to imagine anything else. 

Ardyn’s lower lip trembled. He pointed wordlessly to his stomach. 

Frightened for a moment (were there still lingering affects of the wounds Ardyn suffered from the Royal Arms?), Noctis looked closely at Ardyn’s stomach. He brushed Ardyn’s tiny hand away to get a better look. There were no scars that he could see. No marks. Just the soft belly of a toddler…

A quiet gurgling sound made itself known. Only Noctis could hear it because he was leaning so close to Ardyn. 

Realization dawned on his face. “Oh…” Noctis sat up and regarded Ardyn with a small smile. “…are you hungry?” 

More tears cascaded down Ardyn’s plump cheeks. He nodded pitifully. 

In that moment, from his mind right down to his very soul, Noctis knew he needed to take care of Ardyn. Who else would do it? Ardyn was an ancient being restored to early childhood. Not only that, he had suffered so much in his old life…Ardyn needed kindness. 

If Bahamut’s rewriting pen was in Noctis’s hand—if this was really his judgement to make—then it was an easy one. 

He couldn’t turn his back on Ardyn like this.

Instead, Noctis laughed lightly and took the cape off his Kingsglaive uniform. “Yeah, me too, a little.” He wrapped the cape around Ardyn’s small body and made to stand up. “Let’s go get something to eat, okay?” 

“Noct.” Ignis stepped forward, ready to cut in. “You realize this might all be a trick. Ardyn has used his powers of deception of manipulate us in the past.” (No need to bring all that up; Noctis remembered all too well how he’d hurt Prompto accidentally—) 

No, but. This was different. “I know, but…” 

Noctis gestured for Ardyn to follow him. The young boy tried, but his legs were too wobbly. He fell back down onto his bottom the moment he tried to stand. Tears of failure rose to his eyes immediately. 

“I don’t think that’s what’s going on here, Iggy.” Noctis held out his arms. Ardyn raised his arms in return, anticipating what Noctis might do next. As all children instinctively did. Welcoming it.

“Yeah, I mean…” Prompto’s eyes widened in disbelief as Noctis picked Ardyn up underneath the armpits. “Why would he make himself…like this? What guy would ever do that because he wanted to?” 

His arms full of Ardyn, Noctis faced his friends. “I really don’t think it’s a trick. Bahamut said something to me in the Beyond…”

“What did he say?” Ignis demanded. 

Gladiolus bent down to regard Ardyn head-on. Scrutinizing. Trying to see through whatever daemon magic this could have been. His expression was admittedly intimidating—Ardyn immediately buried his face in Noctis neck. 

“Stop you’re scaring him!” Noctis turned away from Gladiolus and began walking towards the door. He’d promised to get Ardyn something to eat. And he didn’t want to stay in this room where his father had died and where he himself had almost perished not moments before. 

They needed to find a place to stay tonight. 

“What did Bahamut say to you, Noct?” Ignis trotted next to his king. Desperate for answers. 

“He said I needed to…rewrite fate or something. Start anew.” Noctis adjusted the weight in his arms, making sure Ardyn was fully covered before the left the room. He didn’t know why. Except he didn’t want Ardyn to be cold, or for other people to see him when he was…naked and stuff. Seemed only right. 

“Then there was a lot about redemption and like…new life.” Noctis remembered Bahamut’s words well enough, but they were hard to translate. He remembered them as thoughts. Not exactly words. The Astrals’ way of communicating.

“So then…you think this is the Draconian’s doing.” Ignis’s face turned down. Serious.

“Yeah, I think so.” 

When they opened the doors of the Citadel, the sky above was beginning to break into dawn. For a moment, all other conversation died as the four of them stared wordlessly up at the heavens. In awe as the sun rose. For the first time in nearly ten years. 

“Wow…we did it.” Prompto still couldn’t believe it was all real. 

“Somehow. Yeah.” Gladiolus patted the blond on the back, unsure himself how they’d gotten here.

Noctis felt clean air wash over him. The Scourge was really gone. This was the Dawn. Their new life. 

He stared down at the bundle in his arms. Ardyn’s eyes were on the sky too. It felt right—perfect, in fact, for the first time in maybe ever—that Ardyn could share the Dawn with them. 

“Pretty…” Ardyn mumbled. His voice was light and tinny. Nothing like how Noctis remembered (that dark gravelly purr). Garbled, as if Ardyn had not mastered the use of all the sounds in that word yet. 

Full of awe.

“I know, right?” Noctis replied. He looked over at Ignis. 

And yes, Ignis could sense the sunrise as well. He turned his face to the light and inhaled deeply.

They’d all needed this.

________________________________________________

For the time being, they chose to stay in the Hammerhead sanctuary with a handful of the other refugees. Takka had already put some food on the stove in preparation for their return. The others applauded loudly when Noctis entered the room. 

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” 

“Bless you, Highness.” 

“My king!” 

Amid all the praise, Noctis honestly just wanted to sleep. He didn’t want to explain how there was suddenly a child that looked suspiciously like their mortal enemy with him. He didn’t want to have to think about the coming days. The decisions they would need to make. He just wanted a bed.

He turned to Ardyn and saw the toddler was already nodding off in his arms. Despite being hungry and everything else, Ardyn was also exhausted. Being reborn might do that. They shared that experience, at least. 

And Noctis’s arms were warm. More comforting than the young king knew.

Maybe they could steal a few moments’ sleep in the backroom. Side-stepping the crowd, Noctis made a bee-line for the bedroom and plopped down on the bed. Ardyn was already asleep by the time his head hit the pillow. 

“If you need anything,” Noctis murmured sleepily to the toddler. “Just let me know…I’ll wake up…”

They slept for quite some time. 

In the end, it was Ardyn who woke Noctis up. Shaking his shoulders. Harder and harder, as if afraid Noctis might not arise again. 

“Wha…what is it?” Noctis asked, rubbing his eyes. He recognized Ardyn immediately—almost like he had not been completely asleep. Like some part of his consciousness had stayed awake just in case Ardyn might need him. 

He didn’t need to question how weird that was. He knew it was weird. But still. Ardyn was like, what, three years old? How was Noctis supposed to take care of a three year old and sleep at the same time? 

How did any of this work? 

Ardyn was biting his lip. Squirming in his seat and whimpering like he had a desperate need. 

“What’s wrong? Is it…are you hungry?” 

Ardyn shook his head, groaning high in his throat. 

Noctis sat up, his hands suspended in midair. What did Ardyn want right now? Why wasn’t he saying anything…? 

“Are you cold…?” Noctis reached for a blanket. 

“No!” Ardyn snapped. He reached down and cupped himself between his legs. Hopping up and down on the bed. “I need…bathroom!” 

Oh. 

“Right.” In hindsight, Noctis guessed that was clear enough from Ardyn’s body language. And by the looks of it, this was an emergency. 

Rather afraid of what would happen if they ran out of time, Noctis scooped Ardyn into his arms and carried him straight to the bathroom. On his way, he saw his friends gathered around a table in the front. He didn’t say anything to them—no time! But he could tell from their faces that it was a serious talk. 

He sat Ardyn down on the toilet, not a moment too soon. Just in the knick of time! Letting a sigh of relief, Noctis made to leave Ardyn alone for a few minutes. Privacy and all that. 

“Wait—!” 

Noctis spun around at the desperate plea. He saw Ardyn, struggling to stay seated on the toilet (this was, after all, a seat made for adults). Torn between his desire to follow Noctis and his need to stay put. His young face was a mess of confused feelings. And fear. That fear was back in full force.

Sighing, Noctis held Ardyn in place while the toddler (or two-thousnad-year-old man in a toddler’s body?) peed. It was the least he could do to keep Ardyn from falling onto the floor, or into the bowl. Little kids needed help in the bathroom, didn’t they? So maybe this made sense.

Some…crazy kind of sense. 

Ardyn gripped Noctis’s shoulders. “Not yet…” he said softly. 

Deciphering the will of a child is not an easy thing. But the look in a child’s eye rarely ever lies. Noctis could see what Ardyn wanted. It was written in his face. 

He did not want to be separated from Noctis any time soon. ‘Not yet,’ at least. 

“Alright. Don’t worry.” Noctis heard himself saying the same thing again and again. He hoped he sounded sincere.

Because he had no idea what it felt like to find yourself a toddler again all of a sudden. But he had a feeling it was terrifying. Ardyn seemed not to recognize Noctis completely. As if the animosity in their past had been swept under the rug. Or erased. So, in that case, he didn’t know the others either. Probably no one. And he was too helpless to live on his own. 

Ardyn needed Noctis. And he knew it. Enough to clench Noctis’s clothes in his small fists the entire time he relieved himself. 

At this point—with a whole kingdom of people waiting on his next move, expecting him to stand up and guide them in this new age—Noctis didn’t even know how he himself was supposed to live. What needed to be done. But, it was clear as day what Ardyn needed. That was reassuring in its own way. Clarity.

He smiled at Ardyn. A strange stirring of gratitude in his chest. Ardyn almost smiled back.

When Ardyn was finished, Noctis showed him how to flush the toilet and wash his hands. He needed to lift Ardyn so the kid could reach the sink. Kind of an awkward position. Although, Ardyn hardly minded. He seemed fascinated by the water. He passed his hands under the faucet several times, squeezing the running water experimentally.

Eventually Noctis realized Ardyn was playing. So it was time to move on. 

Not that he wanted to. It was time for a serious conversation in the front room. He fashioned his cape into a kind of toga for Ardyn to wear (since they had no toddler’s clothes on hand, that Noctis knew of, this would have to do), and walked them out of the bathroom to face the music. 

The tension in the room where his friends sat was thick enough to choke on. Noctis pretended he didn’t notice at first. He walked to the stove and spooned some stew into two plates. One for him, one for Ardyn. 

“You said you were hungry, right?” Noctis asked, passing a bowl to Ardyn. 

“Mmhmm!” As if completely unused to tables or any sort of manners, Ardyn sat right on the floor and began shoveling stew into his mouth. Clumsy. Gripping the spoon with an unpracticed grip. Inevitably, chunks of stew fell down the front of him. 

Noctis sighed. They really needed to find better clothes for Ardyn. Especially since the makeshift toga needed to be washed now. 

“It’s great to have you back, buddy.” 

The words were not at all what Noctis was expecting—he had been expecting a lecture on how he needed to step up. Especially from his friends, who were always the first to be honest with him. But instead, when he turned to them, they all smiled in the midday late. 

“Very true, Noct,” Ignis added. “We are blessed to have a second chance with you in this life.”

Noctis blushed at the wording. He pulled up a seat in between Gladiolus and Prompto, keeping one eye on Ardyn where the boy sat on the floor. “Yeah, no kidding. Being alive is pretty great.” 

Gladiolus shifted in his seat. “Well, that, yeah. But also…I mean…” 

Tension settled over everything once more. 

“Before we get into all that,” Ignis laced his fingers together. “Have you given any thought to what you might do, Highness? How we might gather the people from Lucis back to Insomnia? I’m sure there are still refugees who originated from the city before its fall.” 

Noctis ate the stew and considered that. It was a great point. He wanted the people who used to live in Insomnia to have their home back. The royal city. Now that Noctis was alive and well, they could come home.

The idea of home was a salient one. For all of them. 

They discussed some practical matters like this for a bit. Noctis was rather glad to have his friends’ thoughts on his side. Maybe ruling would be easier with the four of them standing together…he loved the thought. Perhaps more than he should. 

“What about our new friend?” Prompto asked awkwardly. Bringing up the (tiny, toga-clad) elephant in the room. 

Noctis glanced at Ardyn. He was wearing at least as much stew as he had managed to eat. Not a pretty sight. But, he was wearing a satisfied smile. Happy to have something in his stomach. These smiles from Ardyn’s younger self were actually quite contagious. He wore the most devilish smirk—it seemed that much at least was not a trait Ardyn acquired over time. No. His face naturally bore that mischievous grin. It fit like a glove.

“I can look into sending him to a place with other children. People his own age…” Ignis offered. 

“Maybe a childless couple wants him,” Gladiolus added. “We could think about putting him up for adoption or something. If people don’t recognize the similarity he has to Ardyn, I mean…it could work.” 

Noctis glanced back at Ardyn. The kid was licking the bowl as if he had not eaten for centuries. Quite possibly, he hadn’t.

“This is Ardyn, guys,” Noctis pointed out. “We can’t just ship him off somewhere like he’s a normal kid.” 

“True that.” Prompto agreed, at least. “What if he goes all daemon-y again? We should probably be the ones around if that happens, I think.” 

Ignis adjusted his visor unnecessarily. Old force of habit. A sign he was turning towards thought. “Then what shall we do?” 

There was no question in Noctis’s mind. Maybe Ardyn would be better off with kids his own age or with a set of actual parents. But it just…wasn’t feasible. Ardyn was still Ardyn. If anyone was going to raise the Accursed again—anew, in Bahamut’s words—it needed to be the Chosen One. Such was his fate. 

Noctis didn’t even really mind so much anymore. He was…kind of starting to like Ardyn this way. The man who had tormented them in the past was so much more agreeable when he wanted only for the basic necessities. Comfort. Kindness. Ardyn bore no murderous tendencies like this. He was just a tiny ball of honesty. 

And he deserved another chance. Didn’t everyone deserve a second chance to be happy? But Ardyn especially. The shadow of his past loomed quite large. Now he had a chance to be free from it once and for all without having to forfeit his life. It was actually…well, it wasn’t terrible. On Ardyn’s side of things, at least.

Granted he stayed free of the Scourge. Which Noctis would have to keep a close eye on. For the sake of the kingdom and Ardyn as well. 

“He stays with us. With me, I mean,” Noctis hastened to stay. “You guys don’t have to worry about it if you don’t want to. I can handle it on my own.”

He grimaced. That sounded way more awkward than he intended! Why was he still so shitty at talking to these guys….these people he loved more than anything in the world…

“What I mean is,” Noctis tried again. “You guys have done so much for me already. Our whole journey. Ten years on top of it, I mean…shit.” He shook his head. Overwhelmed by it all once again. “But that’s all done now. You don’t have to follow me anymore. If you don’t want to. You’ve…given me enough time out of your lives.” 

Prompto’s sniffles spoke volumes on behalf of them all.

“…Have we?” Ignis asked. “Because the way I see it, we have so much more to give. For myself I can say that as long as I have life left in me, I will be there to serve you, Noct. However you may need.” 

“Same here.” Gladiolus leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed. “I’m an Amicitia, for one. If you’re around then I gotta be your Shield. Simple as that.” He shrugged. “But…more than that. I want to, Noct. I want to be by your side. Always. From now until the very end. Doesn’t matter that our journey’s over.” 

“Guys….” Noctis felt his heart filling to the brim.

Instead of saying anything, Prompto stood up and touched Noctis on the shoulder. When their eyes met, Prompto was all joy and sunshine. Blue-sky eyes and an awkward swagger (that had managed to become a little less awkward over the years). 

“Noct, while you were gone the three of us…got pretty friendly.” He winked at Noctis to indicate his meaning. 

Lightning struck Noctis where he sat. “…Friendly?” 

“That is the most appropriate word,” Ignis explained. “I suppose another way to say it would be…comfortable. We’ve been keeping each other remarkably comfortable in your absence, Noct.”

“You see where we’re going with this.” Gladiolus was grinning lewdly.

Noctis wanted to see. He really did—this was all he’d ever wanted—but how could he when there were so many questions bursting in his mind? How long? Had they always wanted each other? Was this a regular thing, or an occasional thing? Did people know? Did they want people to know?

“We’d like you to be comfortable as well, Noct. Since you are the thing that completes us.” Ignis wore a leering kind of smile.

“Only if you want to, though,” Prompto made sure to say. 

“Tch!” Noctis fought back tears. Was that even a question? He wanted to pull his hair out he wanted this so much! “Of course I want to!” 

“Yeah, I figured.” Gladiolus nodded wisely. He’d seen this coming, after all. 

Then the Shield looked over at Ardyn. The rather filthy toddler crawling back towards the stove to get a second helping of stew he surely could not get on his own. 

“Then it looks like we’ll be taking care of this guy together,” Gladiolus mused. 

“Indeed. Between the four of us we should be able to figure out how to raise a three year old.” Ignis paused. “…Ostensibly.” 

Prompto and Noctis hugged. Then they turned their faces towards each other and shared a moment. It would not be long before the others joined in as well.

Ardyn reached futilely for the pot of stew. This wasn’t working. He needed to change his tactics. Eventually, he pulled a stool over and started scooping handfuls of stew into his mouth straight from the pot.

Success! A little perseverance went a long way. To say nothing of the horrendous mess that awaited the four men when they happened to turn around. 

Raising a three year old was off to an…interesting start. Unconventional to say the least.

__________________________________________

The first few months were profoundly difficult. For weeks, Ardyn refused to leave Noctis’s side. The toddler followed him endlessly. Trailing behind him through the Citadel, into the wilderness, into the hidden sanctuaries underneath Insomnia. Room to room. Not leaving Noctis alone even to sleep. If Noctis tried to sneak away, Ardyn would either find a way to get to him or cry horribly until Noctis returned.

They could not be separated. Whenever Noctis asked if Ardyn was ready to be by himself (or even with one of the others), he said, “Not yet.”

In the moment Noctis picked him up, minutes after his rebirth, Ardyn had bonded with Noctis. He saw Noctis as his savior. His lifeline. The only thing keeping him safe in this world. He did not clearly remember his old life, but he had a memory of being alone. Before there was Noctis, Ardyn was alone. Then Noctis came and found him—under the clothes in the throne room—and now he wasn’t alone.

The depth of that loneliness truly frightened Ardyn. He had nightmares about it. Strange visions of red and black and purple, ghoulish things plaguing him and driving him away from the rest of the world. Forever. There was no going back. 

He would wake up from these terrors screaming for Noctis. Sheets wet. Tears unbridled. He could not give words to these fears, either. He didn’t know how to describe it.

“You weren’t there!” Ardyn wailed at Noctis. It’s all he would say on the subject.

It took some patience, letting Ardyn get used to time away from Noctis. He latched onto Prompto next. So it would sometimes be okay if Noctis left him alone with Prompto, but only for a little bit. Then, gradually, more and more. After that, Ardyn warmed up to Ignis. He would let Ignis take care of him by himself sometimes. Very last came Gladiolus. It all happened by degrees and in stages. 

But they got there. Ardyn could be with any of the four of them now. Or with others, if he liked them enough. He had to meet people first before he was comfortable being alone with them. He seemed to distrust everyone on sight. No faith in the masses. Which stood to reason, maybe. 

Eventually, Ignis thought of giving Ardyn some paper and crayons to draw his visions. Help him articulate the things that frightened him. This turned out to be a wonderful idea. Ardyn took to drawing immediately. There were many things in his head and words were so tricky sometimes! He knew things, and yet he did not know them. He knew what they were but not the names for them. Drawing helped him communicate to his caregivers.

They learned that Ardyn had nightmares about his past. And good dreams, sometimes, too. Visions of Solheim. Things that had been lost to history (until now). Once Ardyn drew a picture of a grand garden. Bursting with vibrance. There was a statue in the back as well. Of Shiva and Ifrit—embracing like lovers. 

The drawings were remarkably detailed. Too advanced for a true toddler.

When asked what that picture showed, Ardyn shrugged. “Dunno,” he answered. “I play there.” 

It was like having a snapshot into the distant past. Relived in the mind of a toddler who could not tell the difference. This naturally brought about some confusion as well. Sometimes Ardyn asked for things that did not exist anymore. 

About a year after he was reborn—the kingdom of Lucis thriving underneath Noctis’s rule—Ardyn kept drawing a blackish smudge. “Yoji!” he said, pointing to the picture again and again. “Where’s Yoji?” 

No one had any idea what he was talking about. “What’s Yoji?”

Ardyn rolled his little eyes. As if explaining to idiots. “Yoji is Yoji. Where he is?” (Sometimes he spoke with tiny syntactical errors, typical of his age.)

They tried to explain that they did not know what Yoji is or where he was. They'd never heard Ardyn speak of him before, either. That only drove Ardyn into a frustrated temper tantrum. To appease him, they just started throwing things at him. Was it a toy? A food? A person? A pet? 

“Not a pet!” Ardyn crumpled the picture of this blackish lump he’d just drawn. “A friend.” 

At a loss, they watched Ardyn draw another malformed shape. His tongue sticking out on the side with concentration. 

“Look!” He showed his four caregivers another black blob with two stick legs. “Yoji.” 

Noctis looked at Ignis, ready to give up. Ignis suggested bedtime, trying to distract Ardyn, but that only made matters worse.

Prompto squinted. He tilted his head this way and that, staring at the crude drawing. Suddenly it dawned on him. “Wait, Ardyn! This Yoji…is he a chocobo?” 

Ardyn’s face lit up in excitement and relief. “Yes! Chocobobo-bo!” He stuttered on the word, but it seemed he knew what it was. “Yoji is a chocobockoko!” 

They all looked at Prompto in surprise. How had he managed to decipher that blob as a chocobo?

“Hey, I know my chocobos,” Prompto claimed. Proud of himself. 

That much was true.

With more drawings and confusing explanations, they came to realize that Yoji (short for something Ardyn couldn’t remember) was a black chocobo. Ardyn’s family kept them as pets when they were growing up and this one had been his favorite. Now he was looking for it again—as if no time had passed between Ardyn’s boyhood in Solheim and the present. 

How could they explain to Ardyn that Yoji, much like the rest of his past, was long gone? Not only that, black chocobos were almost entirely extinct. It wasn’t like they could just find a black chocobo and give it to him in Yoji’s place. They didn’t want to hurt him, but they had no way of lying to him either.

Gladiolus rubbed his chin. “Give me some time, kiddo, okay?” he said to Ardyn. Wrapping him in a soft hug (Gladiolus gave the best hugs out of all of them, this was an undeniable fact). “Let me see if I can find him.”

So, Gladiolus got to work on a replacement. He hadn’t told the others he possessed this particular skill, but. The secret was out now. Iris taught him how to do it back when they were kids. She was a whiz with a needle and thread and Gladiolus, as a child, had been kind of jealous. So Iris finally deigned to teach him. 

The following morning, Gladiolus presented Ardyn with a brand new black chocobo plushie. Half the size of Ardyn’s own small body. Soft fur for feathers and big round glass eyes. Lifelike. Not cartoonish or childish. But…real-looking.

“That’s not Yoji,” Ardyn said defiantly. “Yoji is real.” 

“I know.” Gladiolus got on his knees, leveling with him. “But I couldn’t find him. Maybe he went back to the Malmalam Thicket where chocobos live. Or maybe he’s on the ranch with Wiz.” He tucked the plushie into Ardyn’s tiny arms. “Until we find him, do you think you could make friends with this little guy instead?” 

Ardyn held the plushie in both hands. He squinted, dubious at first. Then he tested the pliancy of the fluffy cotton inside. Giving it a whole body squeeze as a test.

It was so soft. Almost like real feathers! This was definitely a special toy, not the same as any of the others he owned. 

“….Okay,” Ardyn relented at last. He pressed the plushie to his chest. “…but only until we find the real Yoji. Right?” 

“That’s right.” Gladiolus gave him a thumbs up. 

Ardyn seemed content with that. He sat and began to play with his new toy. 

Noctis, Ignis, and Prompto had to hand it to Gladiolus. He’d done a hell of a job with that. Finally figuring out a way to stop Ardyn’s demanding. 

“What do we say to Gladio, Ardyn?” Noctis reminded the toddler. They were still teaching him manners. Manners, it seemed, were one of the things Ardyn had conveniently forgotten.

But he was quick to remember. And rather obedient, considering. Golden eyes alight with happiness, Ardyn gave Gladiolus a hug around the shins. “Thank you, Gladdy.” 

“You’re welcome, kiddo.” Gladiolus sniffed hard, trying to remember this was Ardyn. The guy they’d all fantasized about killing for nearly ten years.

It was strange. This child was Ardyn—no denying that, in his face and his history, the things he knew, the things he said—and yet…he wasn’t. He was a child. Gladiolus didn’t mind kids. None of them did. In fact, they were all rather good with children. And they took to Ardyn as readily as he took to them.

In time, it was difficult to remember that they were supposed to keep their guards up. Ardyn never showed any signs of the Scourge. He was a normal child, ancient memories aside. So, they treated him like a normal child. 

W ith four fathers.

___________________________________________________

A few years later, when Ardyn was about five years old, he called Noctis into his room to show him yet another drawing. Lately, Ardyn had taken to wearing his old scarf. The gray paisley one they all knew so well. He just liked it, he said. And now he wore it all the time. Eating his meals, going to his lessons in the Citadel, even going to sleep. (Noctis fought with him to take it off in the bath, which eventually Ardyn relented, but not until he tried to wrap it around his neck enough times that it didn’t get wet in tub. What was the problem if it didn’t get wet?) 

That day, Ardyn trotted over to Noctis, drawing in hand, his signature scarf trailing on the floor behind him. “Look.”

“Ah.” Noctis kneeled down, pulling Ardyn in for a hug. After years of this boy turning to him for comfort—for everything—Noctis could not help seeing him as his own. He loved him like family. “Someone has an artistic streak.” 

Ardyn preened under the compliment. On the page, he had drawn some rudimentary trees in the background. Green and brown to signify what they were. Then in the middle were two faces: Ardyn’s and Noctis’s. Except, in his picture, Ardyn seemed taller than Noctis (which had not been the case for a while now). 

“It’s us,” Ardyn explained needlessly. “You and me. I’m big and you’re little.”

“Oh?” Noctis tilted his head to the side in interest.

“Yeah. I’m showing you something.” Ardyn pursed his lips in thought, scratching his head. “I think I had a car. Was it red?” 

Noctis nodded slowly. “It was.”

“Yeah.” Ardyn always seemed pleased when he recalled a fact correctly. And he was never daunted by the cognitive dissonance that came with his memories. He just seemed to accept them as a fact of life. The unspoken things a child understands. “I’ll draw that next.”

Noctis pressed a kiss to Ardyn’s unruly mop of hair. “I’d love to see it.” 

“And, also,” Ardyn pointed to his face in the picture. “Right here, I know something you don’t. But I don’t want to tell you yet. It’s a secret.” 

Smiling, Noctis took Ardyn’s hand and led him outside. He’d promised Ardyn some chocolate ice cream as a reward if he behaved for the babysitter. Ardyn had held up his end of the bargain. Thank the Six.

“Is it still a secret?” Noctis asked.

“Umm…” Ardyn thought about that for a moment. “No. Not anymore. I think you know now.” 

“Yup.” That much was true. 

“And I do too, right?” 

It was an unusual question. Noctis peered down at Ardyn, who was looking at him with confident eyes. As if he knew Noctis would reassure him no matter what. That was their relationship.

Noctis thought back to Bahamut’s benediction. A second chance at life. Life was a complicated mess, but there was still love. A love Ardyn had not known for millennia; one that Noctis had made it his personal mission to provide. He understood Bahamut’s decision now. 

And Ardyn probably did too. Even if he couldn’t give words to it yet.

“Yeah. You do.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Last--and extremely important--point: HAPPY BIRTHDAY DYN!! <3 <3 <3 You are a gift to all of us in this fandom, especially me <3 <3 
> 
> Thanks for reading about the adventures of smoldyn! Let there be more smoldyn in the world. 
> 
> So it is written so it is done.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [A Royal Plush](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14512956) by [PorcelainLove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PorcelainLove/pseuds/PorcelainLove)




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